Where were you when you heard of Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg’s passing?
Actually, I don’t care, and in a year or so you probably won’t either. Because the death of federal judges — even Supreme Court justices — aren’t really the kind of earth-shattering moments that really live on in our psyche. Not like, say, the assassination of President John F. Kennedy, or the death of Elvis Presley, or the attempted assassination of Ronald Reagan, or maybe even the explosion of the Challenger space shuttle.
However, despite a little too much LDS back in the 60s, I do remember where I was two nights ago when the news broke. I was at a beer joint with a couple of good friends, sampling the fine craft beers and, surprisingly, some of the best pizza in town. We were already talking politics when our phones started buzzing. The news about Justice Ginsburg kicked the conversation up a couple of levels.
The thing is, although all three of us are Christians and, I’m assuming, Republicans, we all saw politics very differently. From local issues, to the handling of the coronavirus, to our views on Donald Trump, we were definitely not singing from the same sheet of music, which is precisely what made the conversation interesting. It’s really not that much fun talking with people about things you completely agree on — what keeps the conversation going?
But that’s precisely what is happening to an increasingly great degree these days in our national discourse. Take a look at Facebook sometime (or, maybe, don’t); most people who engage in political or social commentary only want to talk with people who agree with them. Sure, maybe they want to talk to (or yell at) people with alternative viewpoints, but they don’t want to talk with them, and they sure don’t want to listen to them. That’s a big reason why I took a long hiatus from Facebook after the 2016 election: I got tired of trying to have rational discussions with people who only wanted to live in an echo chamber. And it extends well beyond Facebook. For example, “conservative” “evangelicals” (quotes intentional — interpret how you will) only want to watch Fox News, listen to Rush Limbaugh, and be friends on Facebook with people who hold the same views they hold.
It’s gotten where you can’t even joke about politics without offending someone. A couple of years ago I was teaching a Sunday School class. To start the class, I would often read a few “news” stories or headlines from the Babylon Bee, a satirical political, social and religious web site. When it came to politics, I was always very careful to choose stories and headlines in a balanced fashion, poking a little fun at both Democrats and Republicans in equal measure. One Sunday morning before church one very nice old lady from the class suggested that I stop making fun of Donald Trump, and “leave that to CNN.” Apparently only Democrats were fair game for satire, and there was nothing funny about Trump. Who knew?
But I digress. My point is that my two friends and I were able to have a friendly, and even enlightening, conversation about politics without damaging our relationship in the slightest. The conversation was thoughtful, amiable — even humorous — and served to strengthen our friendships, rather than tear them apart. That’s pretty rare these days.
This afternoon Andrew McCarthy published a piece on National Review which addresses the politics of the death of Justice Ginsburg. It’s an interesting article, and mostly right on the money on the legal stuff, but I do take issue with this paragraph:
It doesn’t matter who said what when. It doesn’t matter that McConnell in 2016 rationalized blocking Garland by claiming that the issue of replacing Scalia should be settled by the imminent presidential election. It doesn’t matter that Democrats demanded that Garland get a vote. It doesn’t matter that Joe Biden, when he was Senate Judiciary Committee chairman, said he would not consider any Supreme Court nomination made by President George H. W. Bush in the presidential-election year of 1992 but then in 2016, as Obama’s vice president, inveighed against the Senate for refusing to consider Garland’s nomination. It doesn’t matter that Obama nominated Garland before the last election but now says Trump must not try to replace Ginsburg before the coming election.
But you know what, it does matter who said what and when. Because words matter. By his statements on the Garland nomination in 2016, Mitch McConnell set a standard — not a legal standard, but a political standard — which he is now having to repudiate (though, of course, not explicitly). Same thing for Barack Obama in 2016, and Joe Biden in 1992.
Now here’s the thing: we expect politicians to lie, welch, shirk, repudiate, and flip-flop. It’s sad, but it’s also reality. But as Christians, we are held to a much higher standard, not legal or political, but spiritual. Our words make a difference, and they matter to God.
Did you know that when David speaks in the Psalms of his enemies, he is speaking more often than not of his verbal enemies? In fact, the most frequent weapon referenced in the Psalms is the tongue. Psalm 5:9 compares the throat to an open grave. (See also, for example, Psalms 1, 5, 10, 12, 15, 17, 22, 24, 25, 27, 28, 31, 35, 41, 52, 54, 55, 56, 57, 59, 63, 64, 71, 86, 109, 140, and 141, at least. Whew!)
The topic of how our speech affects and reflects our spiritual lives is rampant throughout Scripture, and whole books could be (and maybe have been) written on it. But, straight to the heart of my point, here’s how the apostle Paul put it in 2 Timothy 3:
1 But realize this, that in the last days difficult times will come. 2 For men will be lovers of self, lovers of money, boastful, arrogant, revilers, disobedient to parents, ungrateful, unholy, 3 unloving, irreconcilable, malicious gossips, without self-control, brutal, haters of good, 4 treacherous, reckless, conceited, lovers of pleasure rather than lovers of God, 5 holding to a form of godliness, although they have denied its power; Avoid such men as these.
There’s a whole lot to unpack there, but notice this: out of the 13 characteristics listed, at least 9 can easily describe most of what passes for political discourse on social media these days. Arrogant, revilers, unloving, irreconcilable, malicious gossips, without self-control, brutal, reckless. Is our social media discourse as Christians arrogant or, more to the point, could it be construed that way by someone on the “other side”? Do we revile our political enemies, or are we loving them? Are we gossiping about them, perhaps by recklessly passing on, reposting or retweeting wild conspiracy theories (i.e. QAnon) without verifying their veracity? Are we brutal in our commentary and comments? In short, are we exercising self-control? I can tell you that I’ve been on the receiving end of most of this from other Christians, and I see precious little self-control in SocialMediaLand.
I should note here that nowhere does Paul say “but if it’s true, then ignore all of that.” In the law, truth is a defense to slander and libel. In Christianity, truth does not constitute a defense to any of the characteristics Paul listed. To the contrary, Paul says that people who engage in such talk portray themselves to be godly, but in fact godliness has no power in them, and we are to avoid them.
As Obama would say, “Let me be clear”: I’m not saying that we should divorce ourselves from civic conversation. To the contrary, we should actively seek to engage in such conversations, with an eye towards transforming them from battles of words to opportunities for understanding, healing, and ultimately gospel transformation. Our country will never heal if we continue to stoke the rhetorical flames, and it is sad to see the church not only participating in verbal assaults, but frequently leading the way.
The Lord expects us to be salt and light, not gunpowder and lead.
